The Beginning's End
by Silenceaftersilence
Summary: What if a month off left Ianto unwilling to return to Torchwood? Set after Cyberwoman, Jack is worried when Ianto does not turn up on his first day back. JANTO. Rated M for M/M pairing and a little bit of smut ; Oneshot.


The repetitive rap of his fingers on the hub railings was beginning to agitate everyone.

The last month had taken its toll on Jack, and it wasn't just a case of his blood flow re aligning itself to cope without the reassuring stream of coffee that had been absent from his working day. It wasn't even the staggering increase of paperwork that had to be shifted out to the others, leaving him to wonder just how many people's workloads the young man had been carrying: and it wasn't the month of low squawking from Myfanway who just simply wouldn't settle and insisted on flitting around the hub, unable to sit still.

It was more of a shadow that had been following him around, shifting gently out of reach in the furthest corner of his eye. It niggled at his mind at the most inopportune of moments; a quiet drive; a weevil capture; that blonde with the forked tongue. Needless to say the cloud of apprehensive guilt had been following Jack Harkness round all month had intensified and peaked at half seven that morning when the hub remained silent. The tourist office was locked shut as it had been for weeks, and no alarm rang out to announce the first member's arrival at work. Jack had furrowed his brow at the time, straightening the cuffs on his immaculately ironed shirt. He wasn't sure why he'd expected Ianto to come in his usual hour and a half early on his first morning back but he had been quite sure he would. He'd imagined at least thirty minutes of scalding sweet coffee and superficial chat, a meaningful look or two and a sufficient reproacment to continue his subtle flirtation.

Somehow, despite the fact that technically Ianto wasn't due in until 9 and Jack had mentioned nothing about starting early, Jack thought something was amiss.

That damn guilt again.

7:55 came and went, the LED display on his wrist strap winking conspiratorially at him and marking the increase of worry with each passing of a minute. But Ianto would be in soon, he knew as much. He knew the Welshman with his quiet efficiency and subtly brilliant tailoring. He knew he'd be eager to get back into the thick end of work as soon as he possibly could.

It was 8:25 when the alarm rang and the cogs started to reveal the entrance, and Jack felt anticipation fog him over as he leapt from his desk and jogged to the ground floor, to see the calm swish of Tosh's hair round the corner.

The probing doubt that the Welshman seemed to be wrong footing him more and more recently entered his mind, and he dismissed the worry together with the lingering disappointment he was sure he wouldn't have felt if it had been anyone else. He began tapping his fingers on the railings, to pass the time and his nervous energy.

It wasn't until 9:05 when Gwen waltzed in that Jack knew he wasn't coming. Things like traffic and travel issues were always factored into Ianto's journeys, and he had never seen the young man be anything less than half an hour early in his entire career at Torchwood. He wasn't sure which gripped him first: the panic, fear or annoyance as he watched his best laid plans go to pot. If Jack was ready to forgive Ianto, it now seemed questionable that the favour had been returned.

And Jack was ready to forgive him. He'd been ready to forgive him just as soon as he'd seen how much the young man had loved the shell of his girlfriend. He understood what it was to have someone like that taken away from you, and he was sure that in his infinite lifespan he'd be able to meet his doctor again. Ianto had been fighting for the hope he took for granted. Sure, there was the betrayal and the risk but no one had died, and he would bet his webely that Ianto would rather have sacrificed himself than see any of his team injured because of him. The others had slowly come round over the last week or two, and it had remained an unspoken agreement that they were all looking forward to their team being united again. And the coffee.

The only loss Jack still mourned was that of his fledgling flirtations with the Welshman. He was uncomfortable enough with the inability to be able to shag someone senseless just because he wanted to; Jack wasn't accustomed to having to sing for his supper. He'd followed Ianto's lead though, and had been quietly convinced that it was only a matter of time before the young man gave into what he clearly wanted. Namely, Jack. Except it hadn't been the thought of Jack that was keeping him warm at night, it had been the hum of the machinery keeping his girlfriend alive. The Captain had briefly allowed himself to hope that the flirting wasn't all for Lisa's sake, and he'd been counting on some time alone with his archivist to test the water between them. Maybe even dip in a toe.

And yet, and yet.

9:15 and he as still deep in thought as Gwen snapped her head around and realised something was wrong.

"Jack? Is Ianto in the archives? Only I wanted to say hi..." she let her voice drift off as she noticed the look of worry that Jack wore uncomfortably, looking awkward instead of his usual megawatt grin.

"No." he said softly, not wanting to encourage further discussion.

Gwen didn't take the hint.

"Oh." She fidgeted noisily before asking more quietly "Jack you didn't send him away did you? Or...well..."

The stress of anticipation, nerves and disappointment all bubbled over and Jack snapped "Yes Gwen. I left him to recover for a month, then hauled his ass in here and force fed him Retcon. Or I killed him and shoved his body in storage, you never know when we might need it. One of those satisfy you?" The low chatter that usually floated about the hub ceased immediately, and Owen raised an eyebrow.

"Look, I'm sure when Jack spoke to teaboy he told him what time he'd be in. So chill, ok? You'll get your coffee."

It was Jack's little finger that gave him away, twitching at Owen's words.

"Jack? You have spoken to him?"

Jack shrugged distractedly, and ran his fingers through his hair. "I sorta...you know, I figured I'd see him this morning."

Tosh looked momentarily worried, and left Jack's management skills (or lack thereof) to lie for a moment. "So, has anyone spoken to Ianto? In all this time?" She could have kicked herself for not asking the question sooner when she saw three blank faces looking guiltily back at her. Murmurs of '_busy_' '_problems_' and '_time_' were haphazardly thrown around but no one had the gall to look up.

The final word was Jack's.

"Shit."

He was out of the hub and into the SUV quicker than anyone had seen him move before. The journey across the city centre only took him a matter of minutes, and before he knew it he was standing with his finger firmly pressed into the buzzer marked **'Jones, I'.**

No answer.

Glancing over both shoulders, he shuffled around in his pockets for the skeleton key he carried with him in case of- his mind drew blank. Because this wasn't an emergency, it couldn't be and as soon as he let himself in he bolted up to the third floor to prove to himself it wasn't.

The thumping on the door was frantic, and he drew more than one curious look from passers by. The door suddenly swinging inwards threw him off balance as he threw another fist forwards and ended up throwing an inadvertent punch into Ianto's shoulder.

"Well hello to you too" he muttered, nursing the bruise he could feel forming. "Was that all you wanted, Jack?"

Jack took a step back. Ianto had dark circles under each bloodshot eye, frown lines shadowed by each other casting an uncomfortable shadow across his face. The T-shirt he was wearing was bulked out by muscles Jack knew hadn't been there a month ago, he'd spent time enough mapping the contours of that body in his mind instead of completing the reams of paperwork he routinely ignored. A swift glance at his tracksuit bottoms told him that the man in front of him had no intention of going into work today.

"Are you going to let me in?"

"Are you going to tell me why you're here?"

The exchange was so swift that there was barely a beat between the two, and Jack wondered at his ability to push past the newly toned Ianto.

"You were expected at work today."

"Sure. And for your next trick I'd like a pony."

"A month Ianto. I said a month."

"You said a month Jack, after asking me to kill Lisa. And sending me away from the comfort of work to twiddle my thumbs in silence."

The harsh rasp of his voice told Jack painfully that Ianto had not been in the habit of conversation with anyone for the last few weeks.

"Are you going to let me in" he tried, successfully as Ianto moved away from the door.

Jack tried not to gasp as he walked into the flat. It was completely empty, save the essentials in the kitchen and a multigym sprawling across the living room. No sofas, no chairs, not even a television visible. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Wanted to get rid of it all. Reminders."

The unspoken words, the memories that teemed from his eyes sat in a mist between them, so tangible that Jack was sure he could reach out into the air and pluck one out if he was minded to.

"And this?" Jack gestured at the machinery sprawling across the floor.

"Couldn't sleep" Ianto grunted, again leaving the rest of the words unspoken. In fact he hadn't wanted to try sleeping, afraid of who might pop up in his dreams. After that first fitful night when it wasn't Lisa he was yearning for but the repeated touch of Jack's lips pressed against his, he had dismissed both the notion of sleep and that of Jack. He had wanted oblivion, and found it in the exercise, revelling in the burn. He should be mourning, he should be heartbroken, he should be grabbing Jack and doing things to him he hadn't yet acquired the words for.

Jack reached out a hand to rest on his arm, and darted his eyes open as Ianto flinched away.

"I want you back at work Ianto. I wanted you back this morning, and I thought..." he trailed off, not sure what he thought. "I thought the month would give you some time. To think about things."

"Too much time. Too much thinking."

"About what?"

"About you."

The words flew from his mouth before he could stop them and all of a sudden there they were. Ianto sat on the weights bench and reached for some dumbbells, quickly counting in his head and measuring the pace of each stretch. The weights were heavier than the ones he was used to but he couldn't think of what he'd said, couldn't think of who said it and what it meant and god what Jack would think of him if he had an inkling of where the words came from.

Jack looked on in despair, not knowing what to do, needing to know what he had meant and _god_ those muscles were flexing so deliciously.

He couldn't help himself. With one swift swish of his coat he had knelt down to remove the weights from his palms, noticing how his fists remain curled up into balls and his fingernails pressed harshly into the hands damp with sweat and fear. Unfurling his fingers and twining them with his, Jack pulled the young man up until they were standing and eye to eye. It was Ianto who spoke softly

"I need the burn. I need to forget. I can't think of-"

Jack's face millimetres from his. Eyes blazing with something, _anything_, everything.

It was Jack who closed the final gap between them, pressing his body hard into Ianto and mashing their lips together, setting a furious pace. Teeth clashing, tongues wrestling for dominance and breathing frantic as Jack briefly broke away and rested their foreheads together. He regained his breath slightly and was about to speak when Ianto nipped his lower lip in between his teeth and tugged gently. He pulled Jack backwards, thinking of nothing but the release, the _god dammed release_ from those dreams that was his only hope. Tugging him into the bedroom and falling backwards onto the neatly made bed he held Jack against him and slid his arms around the greatcoat to rest in the small of his back.

"Please."

It was no louder than a whimper, but that one word stopped jack from noticing the sparsity of the room, or the stiffness of the sheets that come from only lack of use.

Shrugging off the coat and letting it fall to the foot of the bed, Jack straddled Ianto's legs and made quick work of rushing his T shirt over his head, fully appreciating the effect the last month had on him, if not the cause. He ran his fingers gently beneath the younger mans chin, raising his face so he could look him in the eye as he pressed an altogether more gentle kiss to his lips. The low moan that escaped Ianto's lips was swallowed gratefully, and Jack continued to press searing hot butterfly kisses across his face.

Lips.

Nose.

Ears.

Lips.

Eyes.

He silenced Ianto's attempt at speech with a kiss to the bridge of his nose, and pulling back slightly Jack met his eyes as his hands reached for the Welshman's waistband, silently seeking permission. Ianto started to sit up, pulling at Jack's collar and struggling at the top button but Jack pressed a hand gently across his sternum and settled him back on the bed. Questioning eyes met his, and the Captain leaned down to press his lips to Ianto's ear, and whisper "You. This, now, this is for you." Ianto struggled briefly; but Jack continued "right now, you're not ready for us. And believe me, I'm not something I want you to regret, ok?" Ianto still seemed unsure, until Jack lowered his mouth to the base of his throat, and sucked gently at the pulse there. "Let me do this, Yan." It was the endearment rather than the tone or the words that settled him; but before he knew it Ianto was laid down on the bed and his tracksuit trousers had been cast into a rumpled heap with Jack's coat.

Jack worked his way slowly down his chest, pausing to twirl the tip of his tongue about one nipple as he tweaked the other, hard enough to feel his hips buck up. Ianto was pleased to feel that Jack was reacting to him, and let a little more tension slip away as the older man licked a trail to his navel before plunging his tongue in, swirling and sucking at any flesh he could get at. His hands reached to cup Ianto's balls, and Jack closed his eyes to enjoy the exquisite sound of Ianto keening beneath him. His cock rested against his stomach, hard and weeping gently at the tip and Ianto spared a thought for the last time he'd been this turned on without it having been touched, at all.

Jack grabbed it at the base, and before Ianto had a chance to gasp he had lowered his mouth and taken the entirety of his length. Hollowing out his cheeks he began to work up a rhythm, and felt his stomach clench as Ianto started moaning his name, over and over in time with the pace Jack's mouth was setting. Jack felt Ianto's fingers curl in against his scalp, scratching and grabbing and _oh how _he moaned his name as he arched his hips off the bed and further into Jack, shouting now, unintelligible words in sync with the thrusts and

_**"Jack!"**_

Jack felt Ianto's cock pulse, shooting ropes of cum straight down his eager throat. He swallowed quickly, licking Ianto clean and loving how the young man lay completely sated on the bed, still muttering his name. He had to steel himself from getting too over excited, he had promised Ianto that it would only be about him, and he was loathe to mess the younger man up further by moving too fast for him to process. He crawled up the bed, pressing Ianto onto his side and spooning against him.

Ianto felt the pressure of Jack's erection pressed into him but Jack held him in place, running calming hands across his chest.

"Now we talk. Ok?"

Ianto talked for hours. He talked about being torn between Jack and Lisa, and how he hadn't entertained the notion that anything might not go to plan. He talked about seeing Lisa die and being left to his own devices for a month, doing anything he could to think about anything else. He talked about how he thought when he hadn't heard from anyone at the hub that he wouldn't be welcome back, that he'd wait quietly to be retconned and live out another life. He talked about how the thought of Jack hating him drove him slightly mad and the thought of him in his bed drove him more so. He talked about how he liked Jack, and how he wanted his trust back more than anything.

And after he talked himself to sleep, and Jack held him close, tears pressing into the back of Ianto's head, Jack spoke.

Just once, and ever so softly.

Deep in his sleep, Ianto smiled.


End file.
